Being Forgotten can be Better
by lezonne
Summary: Tracey tries to help Daphne cope in the aftermath of the war and her families deaths. Written for the Pick a List Competition #6 (expelliarmus), the Holiday Spirit: Christmas Boot Camp and for the 1991 Challenge. WARNING! Some self harm.


**A/n: **Written for the _Pick a List Competition _#6 (expelliarmus), the _Holiday Spirit: Christmas Boot Camp _prompt #29 (poinsettia) and for the _1991 Challenge _#10 and 9 (Tracey Davis and okay).

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Being Forgotten can be Better

We're not all war heroes. Some of us slip into the shadows, completely forgotten. We don't get any war recognition, as though we didn't even fight. Our side is obsolete, because no one cares to ask us about where we stood and who exactly we chose to follow. We slip into the background as a space filler, a person with a face but no identity. If I had disappeared during the war, I don't know if anyone would've noticed.

That's not true, not exactly. Daphne would've noticed- Daphne Greengrass. She is one of my best friends, but during the war we spoke very little. She was quite involved in the war, her father getting in over his head just like Draco's dad, tying them all into the war. Daphne could rarely speak really, as she was half scared out of her mind about being killed by the Dark Lord every other day. It was a really lonely time.

Maybe being a nobody isn't so bad. I mean, it got me out of the details of the war. I was on the lower end of the spectrum as far as Voldemort's ranks went. My parents and I were rarely called upon, and the most we ever did was fight in the final battle. And in our defense, we really didn't put up much of a fight either.

But I'm back now for this last year of school, standing beside my friends who are now labeled and stereotyped. Okay, so the whole of Slytherin has been labeled _The Death Eater Cult _but for the most part we ignore other students in other houses. The war might be through, but house rivalry is still at large. We're the outsiders.

And I'm an outsider in a group of outsiders.

Someone at the table nudges me, and I force myself out of my trance. I've been thinking about the past again, and for way too long this time. "Hey Tracey, are you okay?"

Daphne is speaking to me. She's trying to be a good friend and make up for the time she left me alone, but in reality Daphne's the one who needs help. I might've been forgotten, but she's the one left scarred. Voldemort killed her sister. I know that it's eating her alive.

I guess Daphne and Draco were both right there when it happened. They haven't really been the same since. And although a lot of people don't know about that bit, those of us who do try to keep from mentioning it. As soon as someone brings up Daphne's sister, she bursts into tears. We're Slytherins; we're not heartless.

Not completely.

"I'm fine," I say, giving her a smile. Daphne looks so haggard these days, worn down by the war. For someone who just turned seventeen and became an adult in the wizarding world, she worries like a mother with six children. She has to loosen up and remember to still live her life.

I don't blame her for being hostile and a bit off. Her father died during the war too, and now even her mother is at her wits end. Draco invited us all to his Manor for Christmas, seeing as his mother ran away and his father is in Azkaban until he dies. I think it's better this way. If Daphne went home for the holidays I think it would only continue to ruin her declining attitude.

My name's Tracey Davis, and I'm one of the people the war forgot. I count myself fortunate on that accord, since I escaped the hardships my friends sat through. But it makes it difficult to understand their pains sometimes too, when I myself don't really have any to reflect on.

It makes me feel pretty awful that I can't be a better friend.

Blaise nudges Daphne, and she gives him s forced smile. She's forcing conversation today, like always. "Are you ready for the Holiday? I can't wait to get out of this place."

"Neither can I," she agreed, eyes briefly glancing at Draco. I don't know what that expression means, and remind myself to ask her about it later.

"You're coming right Tracey?" the blond asks, glancing my way. I nod, glad that he hasn't forgotten about me. I keep waiting to see if my friends will forget about me, letting me slip into the shadows again.

Before the war I wasn't close to Draco, Blaise or Crabbe, but now we talk quite frequently. Out of all the Slytherins, I bond best with this little group, which includes Pansy, Daphne and Nott on top of the other three. We've made a little group out of ourselves.

I'm hoping that it doesn't change for a long time.

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The next time I cross paths with Daphne, it's under awful circumstances. Sure, we see one another during class, but she's been quite distanced lately. We share a room, but mostly she sits away from the other roommates alone and thinks. I've wondered what goes through her mind sometimes.

Everyone's supposed to be away on a Hogsmeade trip. I told Daphne I was going, but then I stayed behind. I'm worried about her after all. She's been acting a bit funny. And while everyone else might be trying to ignore her behavior because it brings up an uncomfortable conversation, I cannot. I just know something's really wrong.

I can't help but use a spell to rip the item from her hands when I realize what she's been doing to herself. My _expelliarmus_ spell shocks her, and she spins around wildly while the razor flies off someplace to my left. I don't attempt to catch it, knowing I will probably just end up cutting myself. The little red lines cascading down her arm make my throat tighten. In her rush she knocks over a vase of poinsettia's, and it crashes to the floor, water seeping onto the carpet. She tries to hide her arm, but I've already seen the damage.

"What are you doing?!" I ask, my eyes wide. She looks guilty and won't meet my eyes, but I won't let her off that easy. She knows this is wrong. "Daphne, why on earth are you hurting yourself?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she spat bitterly, looking in my direction. "I have every reason to."

"You have _no_ reason to. Nothing can justify this action."

"Tracey-"

"Don't argue," I say, already stepping towards her. Despite her protests I grab her arm, shivering when I feel how sticky it is. The underside is red, and three new cuts adore the shredded skin. It's obvious now that she's been doing this for a while. No wonder she wears long sleeves.

We're all delirious to think she's okay. Daphne is anything but.

Without asking for permission, I heal the wounds. She has nothing to say on the matter, and once I'm done I force her to sit on the bed. Using a spell, I repair the vase and study the flowers I just saved, caressing the petals.

"Draco gave these to you," I mutter, glancing at her. "I never thought he was that sweet. Why'd he do it?"

She purses her lips. For a long time she has nothing to say, and I wonder if she's decided that she has nothing left to say.

"He feels guilty," she whispers, catching my attention. "In a way, we've bonded over the experience really. It's sick, but true. We gave me the flowers because he knows they were her favorite. In a way it just upsets me that they're here."

"You should've given them back then," I say, glancing briefly at her arms. "Daphne, _please_ don't cut. There are other ways to cope with this."

"Like what?" she spits, anger etched in her voice. "Should I poor out my heart and soul to all of you over the Holiday vacation to Malfoy's? Or maybe I should get some professional help so they can tell me that I'm depressed. Tracey, nothing's really going to help me. Nothing really matters now, because nothing will bring back my sister _or _my father."

I sigh. She's right. Sitting on the opposite side of the bed I brush my hair back, thinking of what to say next. "If you ever want to talk… I'm here, you know?"

"How are you going to help _me_?" she asks cruely, glaring at me. "You know nothing about what the war was like! People barely remember that you were there!"

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, I can tell that she wants to take them back. Reaching up, she covers her mouth briefly, and I retract my hands away from her. I was going to say something kind, but now I'm not so sure.

"I'm sorry Tracey; that was out of line."

"Yes, it was," I agree, glancing away. "But you're upset. Upset people often say things they regret."

"I suppose that's true."

"Yes." I take a breath. "Just because I wasn't too involved doesn't mean that I won't listen. I feel shitty when all of you talk about the traumas you experienced and I have nothing to compare them with, but there's nothing I can do about that now, except listen. And it looks like you need someone to listen to you Daphne. I've been against the idea for ages now, but I think it's time I toughen up and stop acting like it's hard for me to hear these things. I should be able to listen to all of you. I mean, just because the war forgot about me doesn't mean it skipped over everyone. A lot of people were effected, especially you and Draco."

"Yes," she agreed, twirling her thumbs. "I haven't spoken about it very much Tracey. It's hard."

"Of course it is. If it was easy for you, I'd be worried. And I'm not even saying that you should talk about it tonight. But you shouldn't stay here either. The others really did go to Hogsmeade. I think they might like it if we met up with them." I give her a knowing smile, hoping to flip her mood over. "I bet Draco would be happy to see you too."

Daphne smiles lightly at that. It's no secret that she's smitten with the blond heartthrob of Slytherin, but she has yet to act on her feelings. It seems like he's pretty taken with her too. I'm hoping that this distraction will steer her off of any depressing thoughts. We can talk all about this experience later, but right now I want to cheer her up a bit.

She obviously needs it. And if I distract her, she'll be caught off guard later when I bring up this conversation again. She won't quite be ready with her guards up, and hopefully I can really get inside her head that way. I don't want her to be guarded when I ask. I just want her to be open and I want to see what's really going on inside that head of hers.

"Come on," I say, pulling on her opposite arm. "Grab a jacket and let's go."

She nods, and soon enough we're out the door, but my mind isn't as carefree as usual. This is the first literal damage I've seen the war do to someone I care about, other than death of course. I know Draco has his own problems, and Blaise and Pansy and Nott too, but they don't share them. They are all very quiet and reserved about the topic.

Maybe it's not so bad that the war ignored me. I hate being treated like I wasn't even there, but at least I'm not suffering like this. I can only imagine what goes through Pansy's mind on a daily basis.

It's slightly terrifying.

On the walk out of the castle I briefly squeeze her hand in support, and Daphne flashes me a hesitant but thankful smile. I return it.

There's no way I'm going to let my best friend slip through the cracks on this one. Absolutely no way.

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**A/n: **Hopefully you enjoyed it at least a little :) Leave a review if you have a moment.


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